


Murphy's Law, Fate's Chosen, Death's Toy

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Magically Powerful Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:39:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Murphy's Law states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Harry finds out that, asked for or not, Fate loves him, Murphy hates him, and Death finds him amusing. And it all starts at the end of his first year of Hogwarts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All quotes taken or paraphrased from The Sorcerer's Stone by J.K Rowling. I make no profit and mean no harm. Please enjoy the subtle changes I have made to the show down, as it sets the stage for later chaos.

Snape had been trying to save him. The thought repeated itself in his head as Quirrell snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out of thin air, wrapping themselves tightly around Harry.  
Wandless magic? Wordless too? Harry’s arms were tied to his sides, and his balance was thrown off center by the sudden weight.

"You're too nosey to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone." Quirrell said. Quirrell who wasn’t a stuttering fool but an Evil Wizard. An Evil Wizard who had let a troll into a school. A school of children. He needed a plan, a distraction, he needed time.

"You let the troll in?" Harry asked. Here’s to hoping Quirrell’s ego is as bloated as Malfoy’s.

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls -- you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off -- and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

Harry looked at the mirror his Professor was talking about and saw the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back...." Quirrell kept talking, muttering to himself, as he circled the enchanted mirror. Desperate to keep Quirrell talking long enough for help to arrive Harry blurted out the first thing to come to mind.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest --" Not the smartest thing to say, but Harry didn’t have much else in mind.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me at that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side...."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. Voldemort, he killed my parents, could’ve killed Hermione and Ron and me, and the other students. Harry fought the ropes as his anger simmered.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," Harry said to keep the Death Eater talking. Anyone who worked for or with Voldemort was a Death Eater.

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."  
Snape, for all the similarities to Vernon, he isn’t my Uncle. Snape is a lot more complicated than I thought...think about it later Harry.

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing -- I thought Snape was threatening you...." Please don’t be Voldemort, please don’t be Voldemort…

For the first time, the fear in Quirrell’s voice was honest. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions -- he is a great wizard and I am weak --"

Please don’t mean what I think you mean..."You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry asked.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There was never a good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me...."

Voldemort’s in the school, the safety of Hogwarts has been compromised. I need to reevaluate my priorities…

Harry was trying to remove the ropes but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: He tripped and fell face first to the ground. His glasses cracked, and it was only dumb luck that it wasn’t the lenses that cracked but the frame. Quirrell ignored the ruckus of the eleven-year-old behind him.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" Quirrell called out. Harry blinked in confusion before horror replaced it.

"Use the boy... Use the boy..." A voice rasped out, it seemed to come from Quirrell himself, but it wasn’t Quirrell. Quirrell turned around abruptly and clapped his hands once, the ropes falling away before the turbaned Death Eater was ushering Harry to the Mirror.

"Yes -- Potter -- come here," he muttered. Harry stood in between the mirror and the Death Eater. What do you think will happen? I’ll see my parents and break down crying? I haven’t cried since the first time I saw them in the mirror so that won’t work...maybe he wants me to get the stone for him? But why would I give him the stone? He tried to kill me!

Harry’s thoughts were becoming redundant when he noticed it. He didn’t see his parents in the mirror but his reflection, pale and scared-looking. A moment later the reflection changed. The mirror image of himself smiled and put his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a blood-red stone and Harry’s eyes widen. The boy in the mirror winked and dropped the Stone back in his pocket -- and as he did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his rear pocket. Somehow -- incredibly -- he'd gotten the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry couldn’t tell the madman the truth, so he lied. He repeated what Ron said he saw in the mirror.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore, I 've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Maybe he believed it?

Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. Should I run? Quirrell bought it.

Harry had been steadily backing away when the raspy voice spoke again.

"He lies... He lies..."

I’ll have to add lying to my list of need to learn skills. Harry thought as Quirrell spun around again.

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The raspy voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough... for this...." the raspy voice insisted.

Harry felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He was petrified as he watched Quirrell reach up and unwrap his turban. I have a bad feeling about this, a really bad feeling. The turban fell away and Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot revealing a hideous sight. Harry would have screamed, but he was too horrified to make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter..." it whispered.

Harry jerked backward. A sinking suspicion as to who he was meeting now burning in his gut.  
"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Reduced to such a state because a baby defeated you right? And the shadow of Voldemort, knows I have the stone. I need to MOVE. Feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs as he stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the shadow of Voldemort. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..."

Harry had nightmares of how his parents died. Nightmares to clear to be dreams and too distant to be anything but memories. His dad fighting Voldemort, his mom begging, not for mercy but for Harry’s life.

"LIAR!" Harry shouted. His sudden outburst had the former Dark Lord laughing.

"How touching..." the shadow hissed. "I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

My mum died because Voldemort wanted to kill a baby. I won’t let him go around killing other babies or people.

Harry looked around the room frantically. He was only a first year, but he knew a few spells. Harry grabbed his wand from his back pocket and concentrated on the energy under his skin. Just like in class, Harry imaged his wand was a knife as he cast the spell.

“Diffindo!” Harry shouted. The severing charm cut through Quirrell’s robes and to his skin, cutting his back like a pair of scissors. Quirrell screamed and Harry sprang towards the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two. Harry stabbed his Wand to Quirrell’s chest and shouted what may very well be his new favorite spell.

“Diffindo!” Quirrell, let go of him screaming in pain as his chest bled and his hands burned. The pain in Harry’s head lessened enough for him to stand up. Taking the opportunity to attack the guy trying to kill him, Harry cast the Severing charm again. Quirrell screamed as Harry cast the spell repeatedly, before deciding to use another spell he had learned that year. After years of cooking for the Dursley's, Harry knew how dangerous fire could be. In this instant, the fire would be useful.

“Incendio!” Fire leaped from Harry’s wand and Quirrell screamed as he burned.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, Quirrell, burning and bleeding, moved to desperately follow Voldemort's orders. Quirrell knocked Harry clean off his feet' landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck -- Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain as the flames on Quirrell’s robes burned his skin. Quirrell howling in agony, the flames burning his skin as Harry’s skin burned his hands.

Voldemort spat a spell and the fire was drenched in water. Quirrell lunged again only to have the skin melt off his hands once it made contact with Harry’s throat.

"Master, I cannot hold him -- my hands -- my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, lets go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms -- Harry could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry-having been thinking over the spells he knew- did so first.

“Accio Mirror of Erised!” The mirror flew across the room, hitting Voldemort in the face. Harry held his hands to Quirrell’s face as he fell on Harry. The shattering glass of the enchanted mirror falling around them like glitter. Quirrell’s face burned even as Harry felt the Stone digging into his leg. Quirrell knocked the mirror away and stumbled away. Harry toss the Stone to the floor, it had to cut through his old pants and cut up his leg before he launched himself at Quirrell. He wrapped his arms around Quirrell’s neck. He hung on Quirrell’s back and wrapped his legs around Quirrell’s waist. Voldemort was screaming, Quirrell was screaming and Harry bashed his head with Voldemort's. They tumbled down and Harry was bleeding. The glass from the mirror and the shards of the stone were cutting into his skin. Harry ignored the searing pain in his head, used to bleeding and getting hurt. He watched as Quirrell burned to death at his touch. He held Quirrell’s head close to his chest and watched as a wispy black smog withered and died before it could escape. Harry passed out as he lost the battle against blood loss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First year's over, and Harry's off to the Dursley's for the summer. New powers and goodbye's, new gifts, and rewards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All quotes taken or paraphrased from The Sorcerer's Stone by J.K Rowling. I make no profit and mean no harm.

The ceiling was white when he awoke. Harry was confused as he looked around him. He saw he was on a bed, with white curtains and a bedside table that held his school bag. At the foot of his bed was a large pile of candy, and a toilet seat?

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him his eyes going wide as he met Dumbledore’s eyes.

Dumbledore sat next to a young woman with two young men standing behind him. The girl had soft brown hair, the man on the right also had brown hair, while the man on the left had blond hair. They looked so happy, and the blond smiled fondly at Dumbledore as the girl and brown haired man started bickering. Harry blinked away the vision to see Dumbledore smiling sadly at Harry. Then Harry remembered.

“Sir! The Mirror-the stone- Quirrell was Voldemort!” Harry rushed to get out.

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. “The stone and the mirror were destroyed, but their magic is not lost. This shade of Voldemort was destroyed, and Quirrell is dead.”

“What...I was just...but he had been trying to!” Harry broke down crying as he realized he’d killed someone. Dumbledore offered no words of wisdom, but he gave the crying child support. There was nothing he could say, when one has taken a life, you can’t trivialize it. It’s not something that gets better or goes away. It's an action that will haunt the young boy.

  
Harry took a ragged breath as he calmed down. Dumbledore knew it would be the first of many breakdowns, and knew the lad would be haunted by nightmares. It was proof Harry was a good person, who still valued life, but it was also proof that Harry was no longer an innocent child. Harry swallowed and looked around him. I must be in the hospital wing. He gazes settled on his stack of gifts. It looked like a candy shop had forgotten half their stock on his bed.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows.” At Harry’s wide-eyed and panicked look Dumbledore elaborated. “The rumors say you fought a Cerberus, charged into battle with a Dark Wizard who was pretending to be Quirrell and fought him in an epic duel that destroyed the Chamber. Most of that is true, but it's not all of it, is it now Harry? Oh! You should see the goblins this summer, now that you’ve finished your first year of Hogwarts you’ll have access to more treasures from your parents.”

Harry smiled softly at the idea of finding out more about his parents but didn’t feel like saying anything. He was still feeling lost from the realization he’d killed someone. Dumbledore continued talking, hoping to distract Harry from his depressing thoughts for a little bit.

“I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

Harry looked at the toilet seat leaning against the foot of his bed, and Dumbledore pointedly didn’t look at it too. Harry laughed softly seeing that Dumbledore was working with the Weasley twins to prank Madam Pomfrey.

"How long have I been in here?" Harry asked softly.

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone-”

“I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone, much like the mirror, have been destroyed, but their magic hasn’t been lost.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you first saw me you had a waking vision didn’t you?”

Harry remembered the vision he’d had. He had ignored it because he thought it wasn’t important.

“Yeah?”

“When the mirror was destroyed you were bleeding. Blood is very important because it has many uses. When your blood was spread around the shards of the mirror it magically latched onto your magic. The same happened with the stone as it cut into your skin. The magic that had been layered into the mirror and the stone had sunken into your magic core, into your skin and blood.”

Harry frowned in confusion and Dumbledore sighed.  
“I’m not sure of the extent of you new powers Mr. Potter, but you no longer need glasses, your famous scar has begun to heal, and you seem have had a growth spurt.”

Harry’s hands went to his face. He could see without his glasses. His arms weren’t just skin and bones anymore. He couldn’t find any traces of his childhood of being underfed left.

“But if the Stone has been destroyed, and its magic was given to me, what will happen to Mr. Flamel and his wife?”

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best. They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die. To Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all -- the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them." Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

“Does anyone else know about...my new magic tricks?” Harry asked.

“Only you, me, and Madam Pomfrey. She’s under healer’s oath, but she’s also under an oath as the school’s medi-witch. I recommend finding yourself a trustable healer to be your personal healer. Most old families have a family of healers on their payroll, but the last of the Potter’s family healers are retired, or too young to begin training.”

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about...."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should, therefore, be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

“Because Voldemort believes in a prophecy. A self-fulling one, that wouldn’t have come to pass had he ignored it. Fate is a tricky thing, Harry. The prophecy said that should the Dark Lord mark someone as his equal, that person would be able to defeat him. He marked you, now fate will give you the power you need to defeat him.”

“Was that why Quirrell couldn’t touch me?”

“That was because of the blood wards your mother set up around you. Blood wards that required willing sacrifice, a declaration of protection and intent, and someone to challenge those protections. Your mother wished for your protection and said it allowed three times. Voldemort must’ve tried to spare her, but she had sacrificed herself for you. Then he tried to kill you and the wards marked him as the enemy. Voldemort can’t touch you because for your Mum’s protection.”

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Harry said, "And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said, Snape --"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him -- Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

“Your father was...a bully as a child Harry. He only had three true friends, the rest were targets. Your mother didn’t start dating him until he grew up and began apologizing to his victims. He never got around to apologizing to Snape, and now Snape holds a grudge.”

“Oh.” His father was a bully, like Dudley. He wasn’t sure what to feel about that.

And sir, there's one more thing..."  
"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone -- find it, but not use it -- would be able to get it, otherwise, they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes.... Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them -- but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"  
He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Earwax!"

Headmaster Dumbledore left and Harry lay down on his bed. He had a lot of information to sift through, but he wanted to see his friends. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came to check on him and Harry found himself gazing at a smiling Madam Pomfrey.

Pomfrey was smiling as students listened to her. She was speaking and leading the children through spells. When they cast them on the patient on the bed the student healed. The students were happy to learn from her, becoming healers.

Harry blinked away the vision. He decided that even though Madam Pomfrey was strict she was a nice woman.

"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded.

"Absolutely not." She said as she checks some floating parchment.

"You let Professor Dumbledore in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."

And she let Ron and Hermione in.

Ron was shaking hands with the headmaster as he was named Head boy, and quidditch captain. He was holding the Quidditch cup and two red-headed adults were smiling, and so proud.

Harry blinked only to get lost in another vision.

Hermione was standing in a library that was unending. She dragged Ron and Harry through the library as she talked a mile a minute. The three were smiling and laughing as they ran through the unending library. Carefree and happy.

"Harry!" Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in as his head was still very sore. So many visions back to back was making his head throb.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to -- Dumbledore was so worried --"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

“Voldemort tried to finish what he started ten years ago, by posing professor Quirrell.” Hermione dropped heavily onto the nearby chair and Ron blinked.

“He obviously failed…” Hermione whispered.

“Yeah, I killed him, again. I destroyed the mirror of Erised and the Stone. Voldemort’s going to try again. He came back once, he can do it again.”

“How’d you win?” Ron asked.

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places.

“We’ll have to start practicing more, I mean, Harry’s going to have to train these new powers. We’ll have to figure out what we can do to help. I’ll search the magical libraries. Maybe I can find something that can help.” Hermione said.

“I can ask my brother’s about secrecy spells. Fred and George know several of them. If Voldemort wanted the stone for its magic, and he finds out you have the stone’s magic…” Ron said.

"So what happened to you two?" said Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round -- that took a while -- and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall -- he already knew -- he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

 

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well, " Hermione exploded, "if he did -- I mean to say that's terrible -- you could have been killed."

“Dumbledore knows the prophecy, I mean he told me some of it, but I don’t know what it says exactly. I don’t think he meant to get me killed, but I’m not sure if I can trust him completely. Everything this year’s just been so...ridiculous. I mean, we’re first years. The teachers should’ve had better protections around the school, and Dumbledore should be protecting the students, something about all this just isn’t adding up right.” Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Harry’s right Hermione. You gotta agree something’s going on here.” Ron said.

Hermione sighed sadly but nodded her head in agreement.

“He’s still on our side right now though, right?” She asked hopefully.

“I believe so, he has no reason to be against us.” said Ron before looking at Harry and adding "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course -- you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you -- but the food will be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.  
After a good night's sleep, Harry felt nearly back to normal.

“I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes. “I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "Who is it?"

Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual, when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

Hagrid stood happily next to a large dragon, surrounded by large and/or dangerous magical animals. There was a giant baby, about three times Hagrid’s size hugging a giant stuffed teddy bear off to one side.

"It's -- all -- my -- ruddy -- fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

Harry shook his head as the vision cleared, that was going to get annoying sooner rather than later, to find Hagrid crying at his bedside.

"Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!"  
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads...."

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present."

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.  
"Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead -- anyway, got yeh this..."

It was a leather-bound book. Harry opened it curiously to see it was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page where his mother and father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?"

Photo’s of my parents. Their friends, and classes. Harry slowly looked through the first few pages. There was a picture, it said Lily Evans and James Potter 4th year under it. James was leaning against the wall laughing with a black haired boy when Lily came storming up to them. Photo Lily was followed by a crying blond boy, covered in some type of goo. She yelled, James laughed, then she punched him in the face. After Lily marched off the image with the blond boy, it repeated. Dad was a bully, but Mum was awesome.

Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him. It was the sorting feast all over again. Harry didn’t look at anyone directly. He kept his eyes down as Hermione told him about having confirmed the traps to the final chamber. When Dumbledore came in and awarded Gryffindor enough points to beat Slytherin, the only students not cheering were the Slytherins. Hermione worried about her exam scores while they ate dessert. The end of year fest was loud and full of excited energy, but the students were hungry and the food was on the tables.

“Hermione, after your study sessions I could recite this year’s spells from memory,” Ron informed her.

“So?” She asked.

“I didn’t even read my spell books this year!”

Harry laughed as Hermione began a lecture on proper study skills and Ron informed her she was a better teacher than a book, so he saw no point in reading the textbooks.

Harry checked his exam results as he sat on his trunk.

Transfiguration E  
Charms E  
Herbology A  
Potions D  
Magical History A  
Astronomy A

Harry had checked the grading scale, A, E, and O was a good grade while, P, D, and T, were bad. Which was different than the muggle grading scale which was in alphabetical order. He’d have to make sure his grades stayed above an A from now on, or below it but Harry highly doubted Hermione would let him fail purposely. There was another sheet, for club sign up’s.

 

Art Clubs  
School Clubs  
Sport Clubs  
Fan Clubs  
Other Clubs

Harry checked the school clubs and the sports clubs. Deciding he would join the broom racing club next year, and the Charms, Potions, and Ancient Runes clubs too, he filled out the sheet and stuffed it in his trunk. Before long Harry was standing in Kings Cross with Ron inviting him over this summer, Hermione glaring suspiciously at Uncle Vernon, and Ron’s sister proving herself a fangirl as she gushed about having seen Harry Potter. Harry kept his eyes down so he wouldn’t see anyone's secret desires.  
“Maybe get some sunglasses?” Hermione recommended as they said their goodbyes.  
“I’ll try it.” Harry promised."See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have -- er -- a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, I will," said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer...."  
Ron laughed while Hermione tried to be disapproving, but she found it amusing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, any tags you think I should add I will, I'm not really sure how to go about picking them out. Thank you for the help.
> 
> Love  
> Dominique Icefall

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice when/if you comment. I have a lot of emotional control issues and have issues with taking things too harshly. Any tags you think I should add I will, I'm not really sure how to go about picking them out. Thank you for the help.
> 
> Love  
> Dominique Icefall


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